THE STORY OF A GHOST

THE STORY OF A GHOST

This is a sad story, the story of a man who died trying. This is a story if a man who wished he hadn't listened to the distant yearning of darkness. This is a true life story, and it was written by a ghost!

Life was very easy since I was eating from my mother's palm. Things have been very great, feeding fat on my mother's purse. Then there was a twist of event, a bad turnaround. Things were expected to turn, but I never knew it would be for the worse.

Months turned to years, and suddenly I was 33 years old, still eating from my mother's palm, and feeding fat on her purse. Not that I did not try, not that I was lazy. Not that I wasn't educated, it's just that things were determined to be foggy.

I tried my hands on some few odd jobs, I tried to be self-employed. I pinched my hopes with my hard work, but was humbled with failures and woes. Soon, I became depressed; I wished to be on my own. I hoped I had a job, so I could repay my mother's effort. 

I was a good a Christian. I believed in God. I refused all invitations to atrocities, but yet I felt forsaken. My faith in God dwindled, I think he was never alive. My trust in him petered away, eaten by my fruitless efforts.

My mates got married, living large in sins and glory. They got jobs and said my time will come, but it seems there was never a time.Years turned to more years, and soon its decade waved from afar. My wishes now took a new turn, and I wished I was never born. Depression slowly crept in, I took solace only in talking to myself. Suicidal thoughts become frequent, and I began to believe in its wise songs of freedom.

I have written many applications, attended interviews like they were rituals. I have read so many company's profiles that I can begin to tell you offhand. And yet God refused to listen, I felt my prayers were wasted. I believed he wasn't even looking at me, maybe his face has been covered by the thick clouds.

My girlfriend has left me, even though she said she was the problem. I knew the truth, she couldn't wait any more years, not after waiting for ten. We thought things would be better after I graduated and served. It got better for her, but not for me, and that was the beginning of the problems. At first she got pregnant, but went ahead to abort it. And when I asked why, she said, because I cannot afford it.

First she will miss my calls, and she will apologize. But soon she started to ignore them and told me she had only been busy. Then there was another guy, a working class and a friend. At first he was just her solace until he became the one she is willing to marry. Though she asked me to move on, and she even prayed that I find my kind. She said she is certain that with my efforts I will eventually make it in life. But my songs of hope cannot put food on the table, and my efforts cannot buy her clothes. My pleas to her seem like a madman, who believed that everyone else is mad!

So, I listened to my soul, and its yearnings to be free. And to suicide I gave my ears, and he rocked me to sleep with his sweet lullaby of freedom!

But now I wish I hadn't listened, I wish my faith was strong. I tried to break free from the rope I have slipped my head into, my life sliding freely into the great beyond. There is no breaking free, there is no escaping. There is no need to struggle, for I ensured the rope was tight enough.

Right in my face, suicide clapped and laughed. The devil wined and dined as I slowly gave up my breath. I thought about my mom and her endless advice. She asked me to be strong, a virtue I always boasted that I have. Now I realize that I am weak, I admit that I am a coward. I will leave my mom in an endless grieve, and I wished I had never done this.

Hell awaits my soul, and my troubles become in vain. And yes, I feel no more pain, but the horror will linger forever.

Right after I died, while my soul awaits its judgement, I stood right beside my dangling body, hanging lifelessly from the ceiling. Then the unexpected thing happened, a text came into my phone. They said I have been hired, and my appointment letter is up for me to grab!

What a waste!

I hope to pass this message, as I walked my lonely path to hell. Please ensure you never give up, for one day it will surely be good.

*picture from www.loverofsadness.net